The thing crawling out of the shattered mirror wasn't a creature.
It was a memory with teeth.
Night-black limbs unfolded like broken puppetry, joints bending wrong, too many angles, too much hunger. Its surface shimmered with fragments of reflected faces—students, teachers, strangers—every fear the library had ever collected.
And when it raised its head, it spoke again in Kai's voice.
"Lina… let me go."
Lina's blood ran cold.
For half a second, her body wanted to obey—wanted to believe—wanted to save him by doing the only thing she feared most.
But then she saw the mouth that wasn't human.
The eyes that weren't eyes—just mirror-sheen void.
And she forced herself to breathe.
"That's not him," she whispered.
Reyon stepped forward with shaking hands.
"Okay, on the bright side… it has Kai's voice, which means it's probably handsome under there. On the dark side… EVERYTHING ELSE."
Seren snapped, "Reyon."
"Right—sorry—trauma response."
The Nightfall construct tilted its head like Kai did when he was trying to be gentle.
"Lina," it said softly, "you're hurting him."
Lina flinched, because the tether burned inside her ribs like a living wire.
She was hurting.
And Kai—wherever he was—was connected.
The construct leaned closer, voice breaking perfectly, like Kai on the edge of confession.
"You burned the tether into your bones. You did that for me."
Lina's throat tightened.
She didn't respond.
If she responded, it would become a conversation.
And conversations were how Nightfall fed.
Seren's eyes glowed brighter as she stared at the construct.
"It's feeding on her emotional imprint," Seren whispered. "It knows what Kai would say. It knows the rhythms of him."
Reyon swallowed. "So it's doing… emotional ventriloquism?"
Seren nodded shakily. "And it's getting better every second."
The construct's shadow-fingers scraped the floor, making a sound like nails across glass.
"Lina," it whispered, softer, crueler. "If you love him… you'll set him free."
Lina's flame flared—gold, fierce—then flickered black at the edges.
She clenched her jaw hard enough to ache.
"No," she said, voice steady. "If I love him… I'll fight for him."
The construct smiled with a mouth that wasn't right.
"That's what you think," it said in Kai's voice. "But you don't remember what happened last time you fought."
Lina's stomach dropped.
The ward.
Arienne.
Her black flame.
The memory cost hissed at the edge of her mind.
Seren grabbed her arm.
"Lina—don't let it pull you into guilt. That's what it wants."
Reyon raised his hands.
"I can stop it," he said, shaky but determined. "I can make something real that it can't lie through."
Seren spun on him. "Reyon, don't—!"
Too late.
Reyon snapped his fingers.
A real illusion formed: a ring of bright runes—solid light—slamming down around the Nightfall construct like a cage.
It hit.
It held.
For a heartbeat, the creature froze.
Reyon exhaled. "Ha. HAH. See? I'm useful in horror scenarios."
Then the construct looked down at the runes.
And laughed.
It lifted one shadow-hand and pressed it against the cage.
The runes flickered.
Then—horrifyingly—copied.
The Nightfall construct's arm lit with the same rune pattern.
Reyon's face drained of color.
"Oh no. It learned my font."
Seren screamed, "Reyon! It absorbs techniques through fear imprint—your illusion is now its blueprint!"
The construct flexed its arm.
The copied rune-ring exploded outward—shattering Reyon's cage from the inside.
Reyon stumbled back, choking.
"It… it stole my spell."
The Nightfall construct turned to Lina again, and its voice softened into Kai's tone—too intimate, too accurate.
"Lina," it whispered, "you always do this."
Lina went still.
Reyon blinked. "Do what?"
The construct stepped closer.
"You act like you're fearless," it said, voice nearly tender, "but you're terrified of being abandoned."
Lina's breath hitched.
That was too personal.
Seren's eyes widened.
"It's not just copying Kai's voice," Seren whispered. "It's reading Lina's echoes. Her trauma patterns."
The creature's head tilted.
"And you're terrified," it continued, "that if you let someone see your heart… they'll choose someone else."
Lina's palms burned.
She forced her voice steady. "Stop."
The construct smiled.
"Like Kai chose his sister," it whispered.
Lina's flame snapped, black flaring for an instant.
The floor cracked under her feet.
Seren grabbed her shoulders.
"Lina—don't—don't give it heartbreak. Don't give it anger. Don't give it anything."
Lina trembled violently.
"How am I supposed to give it NOTHING when it's wearing his voice?"
The construct leaned closer, voice a whisper of devotion.
"I'm sorry," it said, and for a heartbeat it sounded like Kai truly begging her.
Lina's eyes stung.
Then the construct spoke the sentence that made her chest hollow out:
"I stepped into your flame because I knew you'd never choose me."
Lina froze.
Seren's head jerked up. "That's not—"
"That's not something Kai would say," Reyon finished, voice thin.
Because it wasn't a plea.
It was a poison seed.
A sentence designed to fracture Lina from the inside.
Lina's memory cost hissed again, trying to steal the next thought—trying to take away her ability to fight this with logic.
But then—
A faint tug in her ribs.
A pulse on the tether.
Different from the construct's voice.
Different from the mirror's hum.
A tiny, distant thread of presence—
Kai.
Real Kai.
Lina gasped and pressed a hand to her chest.
"Kai?" she whispered.
Seren's eyes widened. "You felt him."
Lina nodded, shaking. "He's—he's still there."
Seren closed her eyes, listening with Soul Echo focus.
"I can hear it," she whispered. "His true echo is faint… but it's real."
The construct's head snapped toward Seren.
Its voice changed—just a fraction—sharper, irritated.
"Stop listening."
Seren flinched.
Lina stared at the creature.
It was angry.
Not because they were afraid—
but because they were connecting.
Because connection threatened its control.
Mira suddenly jerked like she'd been yanked by invisible strings.
Her eyes flickered. She gasped, real Mira surfacing.
"Lina!" she cried. "RUN—!"
Lina turned. "Mira—!"
Mira grabbed her own wrist, nails digging into the coercion brand.
"It's using me— it's using the mirrors— it's—"
The mark flared again.
Mira screamed.
Her eyes went blank.
But as she collapsed, she whispered one last word—barely audible:
"Jax…"
Lina's blood ran cold.
Because the Nightfall construct's voice returned—Kai's voice again—soft, intimate.
And it whispered a secret only Kai had ever known:
"Remember the night you begged me not to leave you in the stairwell, Lina?"
Lina froze.
Her breath stopped.
Reyon's eyes widened.
Seren whispered, horrified:
"That's… real."
Lina's voice shook. "Kai told you that?"
The construct smiled.
"No," it whispered. "I lived it."
Lina's stomach dropped.
Because now there were two Kai voices in the room—
One faint, distant, tethered through her bones…
…and one standing in front of her, wearing his sound like a knife.
And the wrong one knew her secrets.
To be Continued© Kishtika., 2025
All rights reserved.